Ninja with the flu,
like drunken master, will prove
more deadly than you.
--ancient anonymous ninja haiku proverb
When you are sick with the flu, you have to heat your core. Get under those covers. Now create some friction. You can figure out your own way but I suggest you wrap yourself tight and squeeze with the intent to produce diamonds... and drink a lot of
--Sleep Deprivation Ninja
Our heroes, Ninja and Child, enter the Fuji Happy Shack® convienience store, a large, neon-gleaming oyster waving hello to them as they pass beneath the glowing pearl beacon. "Enter Here!" it claims in the stern voice of several languages, as if to support the ongoing claims of human rights researchers that the sugar bomb Shaved Ice drinks actually do freeze the human brain, preventing its host from being able to realize that the flashing green automated doors are the way into the building rather than to some vortex of doom. A few strung out customers hover around the building appearing to be afraid of the doorway. They stop just before entering, grabbing their heads as if to warm them and withdraw in uncertainty.
Ninja steps into the aisle marked "Recharge!!1!" and grabs a Electric Ginsing Adrenaline™ bar. Code Name Alice coos from within the Moby wrap at his chest. She doesn't need a boost of chemicals to get better. She has immunities from her mother's milk. Ninja, however, doesn't need immunities; the adrenaline bar contains, as a final ingredient, nanobots programmed to seek out and destroy harmful biological contaminants.
At the counter, Ninja lays his out his bar and asks the clerk for one of the Ultra Fever Death II™ vials that they keep for a restricted clientel.
"No way dude, no go. I've only got one left back here. There's been a run lately. Must be another doomsday virus. I'm taken it myself at my lunch break."
"I've got to have it. My child's livelihood depends on my health."
"Fuck off dude. You aren't getting it."
Ninja turns on his ObeyMe Voice Translator™ and it echoes the phrase, "Give it to me or die!" with the torrential malice of the Gods. The effect is weakened when Ninja wheezes out a grandmother-esque cough toward the end.
"Wait, are you sick, man...? Don't come near me. I'm warning you, ninja or not... I'm a sushi belt. I've got mad tuna!"
"Ha-chooo!" Ninja retorts.
An army of millions flies forth to their new battleground. The Fuji Happy Shack® clerk reels back in ricochetic slow motion as the viral horde latches to its newest host.
Ninja reaches behind the man and grabs the vial, slapping payment on the counter. The clerk turns green and begins to shake, oozing white bloodcells that just aren't enough to stave off the attack.
Ninja and Child walk out into the night, prepared for the next round of biological armageddon.